It was good that Harry hadn't been kidnapped by intergalactic bounty hunters, because he had a court date coming up. Despite all the work that Sirius had been doing to shield him from the investigation into Cedric's death, they wanted him there at the actual trial. The Tonkses had no worry that he was in particular legal danger (and had worked out being able to represent him even though their daughter had been on the investigation), but the althing had to be appeased.
That had been part of the reason they'd met him at the Market, since the plan was for him to spend a few days after his birthday with Sirius before going to the trial. Assuming they didn't try to throw him in jail, he'd have plenty of time to get back to Earth before the "you can't permanently change Realms through the Goblin Market" clause kicked in. Which would have been another reason that getting kidnapped from there would have been bad.
They never even figured out where he was being bounty hunted to. The adults had finally gotten confirmation from the goblin authorities that Groot and his furry friend hadn't actually registered as bounty hunters in the market, and if they had they probably would have been turned away without very compelling evidence. The Market was open to aliens from beyond the Realms, but they didn't want to risk their business by Vanir citizens feeling unsafe there.
Regardless, Harry got to spend a pretty relaxing couple of days hanging out with his Black cousins, as well as his Vanaheim-based friends. Diagonalt was a pretty interesting town in the summer, for all that they didn't have air conditioning. The climate was such that it didn't get too hot, and it was easy enough to cool off swimming in a lake or flying at a hundred miles an hour on brooms. The casual ability to show off magic was certainly a perk of being there instead of Earth.
Expecting a fairly relaxing morning before his afternoon court date, Harry was surprised to be shaken awake by Sirius when it was still dark out. "Get up and get dressed. Trial got moved to dawn. Someone's screwing around. Fortunately, Dumbledore warned us."
Harry had acquired a replacement bag of holding at the Market (the original one still evidence for the trial, since they'd staged Cedric's body clutching it), so at least he only had to get into his best robes, give up on trying to fix his hair, and go. Sirius' house wasn't far from the Ministry fortress, but the walk through the pre-dawn streets felt long and surreal. At least the city had enough magical citizens that there were magical "gaslights" set up along the streets, rather than the pitch dark of a normal medieval town. The full moon was also on its downswing, lighting up the sky.
Much like his visit for Sirius' trial, he got scanned in via his wand at the security post, and they were met by a frazzled-looking Ted Tonks, backed by Andromeda (who looked perfectly awake and put together, despite the hour). "You'll come with us," he told Harry. "You have to sit on the floor level, rather than up in the gallery."
"And I'll be on the platform," Sirius agreed, checking to make sure his own robes weren't done up incorrectly. "Let Ted and Andi do all the talking unless you specifically have to speak, then only say what they tell you."
"Don't pull a Tony, got it," Harry agreed, having eventually seen the recording of the man pissing off an entire Senate subcommittee.
The view from the floor was weirdly different than the one from up in the stands: this close, the drowsy landholders filing in were more immediate, real… and fragrant. They'd clearly been called in too early to shower, or just didn't have access to magical heated water in the first place, so were doused with a disturbing array of strong colognes. Like Sirius, most of them had barely managed to get dressed correctly, and there were a number of missed buttons and toggles on their clothing.
But for all those sartorial choices, nothing drew Harry's eye like the woman that walked in after the landholders had sat, but before Fudge and Dumbledore. Bright pink clothing would do that to someone, even in the relatively-colorful court. Her robes weren't exactly in the Vanir style, and they were precisely the color of a certain cellular provider's magenta logo, with piping in a more salmony pink. It took a moment to realize that the woman wearing them could have passed on Earth as a relatively unassuming, if tall, black woman if not for the robes and how she was effortlessly carrying a massive, long-handled warhammer with a head not much smaller than Thor's weapon, Mjolnir.
Andromeda leaned over and whispered to Harry, "That's the kree we were talking about."
"Is the pink cultural, or…" he wondered.
She shrugged, but said, "The rumor is that kree clothing has electronic tactical camouflage, and can change to any color. But hers got randomly stuck on pink when she got here and the power stopped working."
"Guess that high-tech hammer doesn't work either," he figured. "But I still don't want to get hit by it." It had to be several pounds of metal if it wasn't hollow.
As if she could tell he was talking about her, "Madam Umbrage'' took her seat at the edge of the dais next to where the Minister and Chief Warlock would sit, and turned to stare directly at Harry. She looked like she'd accidentally swallowed a fly, and was trying not to show it. He calmly met her eyes, and she gave up the staring contest once Dumbledore and Fudge swept across her eyeline. The headmaster gave Harry an apologetic look, and the Minister a calculating one as they passed.
"I call this session of the althing to order," Dumbledore said, shortly after taking his seat. "Apologies to everyone for the early gathering… the Minister realized that there was additional business to discuss after the trial and decided we needed the morning, as well." He shot Fudge a glance, but the Minister didn't have the grace to look apologetic himself. He simply looked annoyed that Harry was present with his lawyers.
That turned out to be the thrust of the next hour: trying to railroad Harry Potter. The Minister let the kree Accuser do what she did best, and accuse. It turned out her actual name was Dar-Benn, and she seemed interested in weaving the story that Harry, working with a pair of SHIELD agents, had killed Cedric and invented the whole idea of a returned Lord Voldemort in order to allow Earth to intrude upon the politics of Vanaheim.
It honestly wasn't a bad pitch. Harry had represented Midgard in the tournament, and seemed more loyal to the Masters of the Mystic Arts than to the Ministry. The attackers that had gone after the other champions in the first place had used Earth firearms. Sitwell and Rumlow's presence on Vanaheim was kind of suspicious, even to Harry. And the thing about Death Eaters was that anybody could be wearing the mask and cloak.
Then it was Harry's turn, Ted starting with, "Cedric Diggory was dead for two months before he was found in the graveyard. His body showed signs of healed torture over a long period, which the coroner estimates started last fall. This calculation makes it most likely that he was abducted and replaced at the hospital after the incident at the quidditch cup. Neither Harry Potter nor the SHIELD agents were even on Vanaheim until the convergence opened weeks later.
"Harry had no contact with either of the men from SHIELD, save for seeing them at a distance a few times at or near the train platform. His accuser can't prove any communication in person or by mail, as it didn't happen.
"The portkey that was meant to return the tournament champion to the convergence and, instead, transported Harry to another night road entrance on Midgard, was tampered with by a powerful, adult spellcaster. The trophy was recovered, and forensics doesn't show any sign of Harry's magical aura, even if he did have the power to alter it. Neither he nor the non-magical men from Earth could have redirected the portal, or even been aware of it.
"All actual evidence, rather than supposition, points to the truth of my client's story. Those of you that follow events on Midgard know that shortly after the tournament, the previously-missing Prince Loki attempted to conquer that planet. He would have had the ability to impersonate Cedric for a year and to alter the portkey, all with a goal of kidnapping Harry Potter at the right moment. I frankly don't understand why the esteemed Accuser would suggest anything else." With that, Ted finally sat back down, temporarily resting his case.
"How convenient, then, that Earth cannot produce the fallen prince," Dar-Benn sneered, the gold accents on her teeth flashing. "Who can attest he was involved at all other than a conspiracy of Earthlings?"
As if Heimdall was just waiting for that straight line, there was a sudden flash of blue light and Thor was standing in a clear space just off the platform for the landowners. "Ah! Hail, gentlefolk of Vanaheim. Do you have… yes," he spotted Harry and strode over to him. "Might I borrow the attendance of young Harry of the Potters? Asgard requires him as a witness for the trial of my brother, Loki."
"Prince Thor, are we to understand that your brother is in custody on Asgard?" Dumbledore asked. "After kidnapping Harry and making an attempt to conquer Midgard?"
"Of course, after a long ruse where he portrayed a student at the school, I understand," the God of Thunder shrugged, as if that was obvious. "Speaking of which, are the parents of the student here? I can bring them to demand wergild for my brother's part in the loss of their son."
Mr. and Mrs. Diggory were, indeed, in attendance, and had been looking darkly at Harry as Dar-Benn's case proceeded, mostly convinced he had been at least involved with Cedric's death. But the word of the crown prince of Asgard seemed to be good enough for them. It seemed like enough for the entire collection of landowners.
"I move to dismiss any charges against my client," Ted called out, "on the honor of the prince."
Looking like she was going to object, and possibly start a fight with one of their gods, Fudge waved down Dar-Benn and agreed, "This body is not in the habit of questioning the word of the Aesir." For all of his flaws, the Minister knew better than to piss off the royal family.
"Then I consider this trial adjourned, and Harry Potter may travel to be a witness for Asgard," Dumbledore intoned. "Please do return him as soon as you can."
"Of course!" Thor agreed, grinning infectiously. "It shall be almost as if he never left. Parents of the deceased?" The Diggorys had a quick, hushed conversation and then Mr. Diggory strode forward, while his wife remained. "Excellent! Heimdall! We are ready!"
And as soon as they were all touching, once again Harry felt himself being torn apart and reassembled elsewhere by the Tesseract. It really was becoming his least favorite way to travel.
They appeared in a stone gazebo on the edge of a vast lake. To Harry's left, a bridge of multicolored crystal extended for some distance across the water. At what seemed to be the "horizon" line but might just be where it dropped off into space, he could barely make out scores of engineers working to repair the machine at the end: Bifrost. To his right, viking-style houses swept upwards from the banks of the lake into sculpted stone megastructures, a many-towered golden palace centered on the city and backed by mountains.
In the gazebo, Heimdall, the towering dark-skinned guardian of the gate, rested one hand on the Tesseract, locked in a magitech apparatus that rose from the floor, and had his other on the immense sword that had previously been the key to Bifrost. "Welcome back, Odinson," he intoned, formally. "And guests."
"Gone for but a moment. I'm sure I was missed!" Thor joked. "You have briefly met Harry of the Potters, and this is… I apologize."
"Amos Diggory," Cedric's father nodded, clearly overwhelmed to be suddenly in the city of his people's gods.
Harry thought it was very cool, but was just a normal level of whelmed, having been to plenty of large cities. The long-lived care put into the architecture was very neat, and there was something about the air that was shockingly pure and refreshing for a large city, especially since it was much cooler there than in a Vanaheim summer. He could feel a subtle magic to the place that was different from the region of Vanaheim where Hogwarts was situated, but no less potent.
"Well met, Vanir travelers," Heimdall greeted them. The last time, Harry had been in a mass of students some distance from the man. Up close, he couldn't help but notice his dramatic, orange-irised eyes. "Your father awaits you in the western throne room."
"A dark room for trials and punishment. I would that we could perform this in the eastern room. It's much lighter," Thor complained. "Very well, do you both ride?" He gestured at the stable of beautiful warhorses that had been set up next to the temporary teleportation structure.
"No, but I have my broom," Harry told him. "Actually… can I talk to Heimdall for a minute. Is that okay?"
The large guardian nodded at Thor, who told Harry, "Very well. But only a minute. We must make haste." He was aware enough of privacy to lead Amos Diggory down the stairs and out of earshot to get ready to ride.
"I just… you can see other places, right?" he asked. "Were your… were your eyes always orange?" He pulled down his glasses and tried to see the bigger man, thinking that he did indeed start to feel something of a connection. He wasn't sure if his own eyes were turning orange.
Heimdall's mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile and he admitted, "You have also touched the Soul Stone. I am forbidden from revealing the circumstances in which I came across it, many centuries ago. It took me years to master the powers it bestowed upon me. Perhaps you will learn faster than I did."
"Can you give me any tips?" Harry asked, not liking the sound of how long it took a person that could live for thousands of years to figure it out.
Considering it for a long moment, Heimdall said, "Allow yourself to truly know other people. It is much easier for me to direct the Sight to those I understand fully." Realizing that being that enigmatic wasn't the best for a young half-Vanir, he relented and explained, "I doubt you have the time to take my tutelage, even if I had it to give. Even my own son struggles with controlling the power."
"Wait, you passed it to your kid? Am I going to do that if I have kids?"
"None but the Norns can say."
"Ugh, Norns," Harry sighed. "Okay. Thanks, though. I'm glad I'm not going crazy, at least." He had a lot to think about. He pulled his broom out of his bag, and managed to match pace with Thor and Diggory as they rode the magnificent horses toward the immense golden palace.
Asgard was surprisingly compact despite its grandeur, so it didn't take long at all to reach the palace. Thor and Mr. Diggory handed off their horses to valets at the front gate, Harry stowed his broom, and then they headed into the building. It was perhaps the most immense architecture he'd been in, and that was including private airplane hangars. Some of Earth's skyscrapers might have beaten it on sheer height, but the building was nearly pyramidal and didn't need to worry about rent per square foot. Every room Harry passed through was simply massive.
None of them was as big as the throne room. It was clearly what the similar rooms he'd seen on TV and movies wanted to be when they grew up. If there weren't so many massive octagonal pillars running its length, it would have been ideal, if a little roomy, for a game of quidditch. Thor was right, though, it was dimly lit, the shadowed ceiling granting an even greater looming sense to the space. The distance from the entrance to the massive, golden-winged throne at the other end was a whole trek.
Near the throne, an audience was gathered in the shadows toward the edges of the room, to the left and right of the pillars that defined the main entry path. Various courtiers and other interested parties had clearly been admitted to attend the trial. To his left, Harry could make out a chained Loki surrounded by Aesir warriors. The man… the god sitting upon the throne carved in intricate knotwork was white-haired and bearded, one eye sealed by a metal patch as he regarded the assembly with the other.
You didn't need to go to school on Vanaheim to recognize Odin, but it helped.
As they walked up, Harry thought he heard a small gasp of recognition from the courtiers to the right, but was distracted by a majordomo speaking loudly enough for the crowd as soon as they were within a few yards of the throne. "Prince Thor returns, escorting the witness, Harry, son of James, scion of the line of Peverell through the family Potter, child of Midgard and Vanaheim, the Boy-Who-Lived, Quadra-Worlds Champion, Avenging Protector of Midgard. Accompanying them, Amos of the line of Diggory, Minister of Beasts for Vanaheim, Father of Cedric, the aggrieved."
Odin began to speak, summing up the case that seemingly had been ongoing for some time when Harry arrived. "Loki, Prince of Asgard, stands accused of conspiracy to admit jotun into Asgard for purposes of deceit against both sides, assault upon the protectors of Asgard to further his schemes, and attempted destruction of Jotunheim. On these points, he has admitted his guilt, and the healers believe he was free of mental influence.
"Subsequently he is accused of complicity with hostile powers, involvement in the abduction, torture, and murder of a Vanir youth, spying upon Vanaheim in the guise of said young man, manipulation of the Tri-Worlds tournament and its challengers, abduction and attempted murder of the Boy-Who-Lived, dozens of personal murders of Midgardians, mass mind control of others, and bringing the Chitauri to that realm where they rampaged across one of its largest cities causing destruction and death. Had he not been stopped by Thor and his companions, he might have subjugated the entire realm, unjustly claiming it for his own rule.
"On these latter charges, however, there is some question of whether he was manipulated and controlled."
"I was not," Loki butted in. He looked a lot better than he had when Harry had last seen him two months earlier, so at least had probably been getting enough sleep. "I am ever in control of the thoughts in my own head. Strike it from my body, if you must, for my crimes."
Harry boggled openly at Loki, who seemed to still be holding to his self-deception even two months later. He caught a frisson of tension between the God of Mischief and his adoptive father, Odin frowning at the audacity and seemingly being goaded to pronounce a judgment. But his one eye flicked to Harry and he simply stated, "Our witness thinks differently?"
Gulping at suddenly having so many eyes on him, Harry tried to think what he was going to say. He needed to thank Aunt Pepper for throwing him to the Boy Scouts a couple of years before, since without that public speaking experience he might have totally frozen. He still focused on Loki to try to forget the rest of the crowd when he explained, "My second year at school… uh… starting about three years ago, there was a book. It had a yellow gem in it. It controlled Fandral the Dashing and one of my housemates, basically the whole year. You wouldn't have known it if you didn't notice their eyes turned blue and they didn't sleep. The whole year!
"I kicked it into Ginnungagap. You told me you found it there. That the person that sent it into my school—the one who killed my parents—he pulled you and it out of the void. Then he put the gem in your hands, in a scepter. Your eyes turned blue and you didn't sleep. You had it the whole school year. I don't know how long you had it before then. Why do you keep insisting it wasn't controlling you!?"
Not even really noticing he was doing it, Harry had drifted almost within arms length of Loki during his speech, eyes locked on the prince's green ones. At his question, the young god tried to surge forward, to take control and make Harry stop advancing, but only managed a handbreadth before the guards pulled tight on his chains. Grimacing, he yelled, "Because I am a prince of Asgard! I am a master mage! My mind is sacrosanct and inviolable! To pretend that I was suborned by such a simple ruse…"
"Would mean that you were a victim?" Harry realized. He figured his own eyes were probably changing color behind the camouflage on his glasses. His scar itched. The emotional ties running from Loki to the other royals in the room were pulsing, wounded bonds of deep, thousand-year love upset and unseated by the revelation of his own parentage. "You'd rather die than look weak in front of your family?"
Loki began to object, "They're not–"
"We are," a woman that Harry had barely noticed in all the other spectacle walked forward from the courtiers behind Loki. But the most vibrant of Loki's ties went to her, and the stately beauty could only be Frigga, queen of Asgard. She put a hand on his shoulder, a look at her husband daring him to object, while his return look warned her to remain appropriate for court. Loki almost flinched away, but she held tight and said, "We chose you, Loki. Perhaps we should have told you long ago, but we didn't want to make you feel less than if I had borne you. My son!" she let her voice drop, so only Harry and those as close could hear her explain, "We wouldn't think less of you for losing a fight to an Infinity Stone!"
"Harry can resist it," Loki said, revealing some of the core of his unwillingness to admit that he could be controlled.
"Only because I have another one that got there first," he whispered back. "I bet Heimdall could resist for the exact same reason."
That got a raised eyebrow from Frigga, who seemed to catch a glimpse of his current eye color over the rim of his glasses. Instead of commenting, she simply said, "Loki. My son. You are already in enough trouble for the tantrum you threw when you learned of your blood parentage. Let circumstances absolve you of the greater crime."
A whole parade of emotions flickered over the prince's face, not least of which was his inability to convince himself to snatch his shoulder away from his mother's touch. Finally, he seemed to get himself under control, reach a decision, and settle his expression back into the smug disdain that was his normal mask. Turning to Odin he said, "Very well, I am willing to put the blame for my illegal actions on an evil space rock if you are, Allfather."
Odin huffed at the insolence, but before he could make a pronouncement, Amos Diggory could no longer hold it in and yelled, "My boy! My Cedric! You ate at our table pretending to be him, but you were his murderer! He was being tortured to death far from home while his mother fed you!"
Loki's mask slipped again, his face pulling back in a horrified look that he'd probably meant to be a disarming smile. He'd clearly been trying to forget that Mr. Diggory was there. "I… that is…"
Before he could figure out an easy explanation that pissed everyone off Harry whispered, "Just apologize."
Looking at Harry as if the very suggestion was like drinking something vile, Loki nonetheless allowed his face to fall into a serious look and he said, "I am sorry, Amos. What happened to your son was not of my choosing, but I regret any pain I caused."
Harry rolled his eyes at Loki's glance back at him, as if seeking a top score for his acting, but at least he apologized, no matter how disingenuous. It wasn't Harry that he should have been looking to for a score anyway. Odin, who had started to look irate at Loki's early flippancy, had settled into a considering look at the interaction with Amos Diggory. He wasn't taken in by the half-feigned apology. What Odin saw was that his adopted son seemed to actually value the opinion of the Boy-Who-Lived, at least enough to take his advice.
And that was something he could build upon.
"Does anyone else wish to speak for or against the accused?" Odin asked. Mr. Diggory considered saying something else, but realized how far he'd overstepped by speaking out of turn, and just shook his head. Harry stepped back next to Thor, who had already said everything he needed to in private. Frigga had not taken her hand from Loki's shoulder, but held silent, regarding her husband with a slight challenging look. Harry thought he saw a twitch of a smile as the Allfather pronounced, "Loki of Asgard. You will stand house arrest, here, until the healers deem you fully fit and coherent. And then you will begin to pay recompense for the crime you admitted to. War has come to the Realms, and we were unable to intervene due to the loss of Bifrost. Once it is repaired, you will travel with your brother to work to put them back to rights. Once the marauding threats are defeated, we shall decide if you still owe… I believe on Midgard they call it community service."
One more slip of the mask as Loki realized his punishment was simply to go on the same kind of adventures with Thor that he would have before everything had gone wrong. Harry could feel that it was almost a worse punishment for the prideful god than imprisonment or execution, not allowed to separate himself and play the villain. But the rational part of his mind kicked in suddenly and he realized demanding to go into the jails or the gallows would make him look like a lunatic. "Very well, Allfather," was what he finally bit out.
"And, Amos of the line of Diggory," Odin finally turned to the grieving man. "Though we have not punished Loki for the acts that contributed to the death of your son, likely as they were to be out of his control and intentions, Asgard will pay wergild to your family. It is a terrible thing… to lose a child." That last statement was obviously as much for his own family as for Diggory, but the man nodded in thanks nonetheless.
No blood money would make up for the loss of his only son, but the acknowledgement of the debt by his god was worth something.
"Return the prince to his quarters," Odin commanded the warriors. "This court is adjourned."
As Loki was led out and the courtiers began to exit, Thor gave Harry a shoulder-clap that he only barely managed to prepare for. "You continue to work miracles, my young friend," he congratulated. "Destroying all the Chitauri on Midgard is not half so great a challenge as convincing my brother to admit that he is wrong."
They turned and started walking out of the room, joining the flow of courtiers leaving along the sides. Amos Diggory was following them, not totally certain of where he was meant to be after all of that. "You've met Tony, right?" Harry joked. "I grew up with him, and in the tournament for not admitting when you're wrong, he's probably still the reigning champion."
Any follow up comments were lost as Harry suddenly realized where the gasp of recognition he'd heard earlier had come from: the side of the room that had been behind him while he'd been confronting Loki. That was where the light elves had gathered for attendance.
Right. Thor and Fleur were both stuck at court on his birthday.
She'd pulled ahead of her father, who seemed nonplussed by Harry chatting with the crown prince of Asgard as if they were very well acquainted. Fleur was wearing her best court finery, her hair immaculately coiffed, and the beauty that Harry had done without for weeks left him speechless.
With a quick look to judge the politics, she put a hand on his arm in a friendly greeting. "'arry, I did not expect to see you 'ere." There was no need to say anything more, because their empathic bond flared back open and the subtext was super obvious.
Carried along near-telepathically was the accusation: You didn't tell me you were friends with Thor!